For Highest Honor
by The One Who Is All
Summary: Laurel is ready to prove herself, both to Princess Diana and the world. Today might not be that day, but one day, it will be.


**Patras, Greece**

**April 29****th****, 1994 **

As a god of the Old World, Ares was not often called upon by a genuine believer. Nowadays, most summons he received were from bored teenagers attempting teenage rebellion by rejecting their parents' beliefs. This day, however, was different.

The muttered words begging him for strength were coming from a grown woman as she laid weakly upon a hospital bed, her stomach distended and swollen.

Ares searched her face for a few minutes before recognizing her as a soldier of fortune he had briefly met less than a year ago. Her black hair had shone in the moonlight as she ruthlessly took down the three soldiers that had attempted to infiltrate the camp. He had approached with a bottle of ouzo, delighting in the fire in her eyes and the droplets of blood on her face.

Given the timing of their meeting and her current state, he appeared before her, using the same form as nine months ago.

The woman opened her eyes, glaring at the intimidating figure before her.

"You know, I could have used some divine birth control."

Ares snorted and rolled his eyes. "Perhaps, but you obviously know how to contact me. Unfortunately, it seems that this delay has sapped your strength. Mortals have a hard time bearing the divine, especially when they receive inadequate pre-natal care."

"I have never been weak before and I do not intend to be now! I can care for myself and for her!"

"Then, why, did you call upon me?"

The woman curled into herself, the small amount of energy she had gathered at Ares' arrival drained by the viciousness of the contractions that racked her body.

Ares sighed. "Berenice, you must know that at this point, survival is no longer an option. The best-case scenario ends with you still dead."

"Shut up."

"I estimate that you have a few hours left. Of course, what do I know? My mother is only the goddess of childbirth."

Berenice deflated. "I don't suppose you inherited some parenting skills?"

"I'll see to it that she has a good home."

"Rat bastard, it'll be a surprise if she knows you outside of birthday checks."

Ares felt his temper flare, spitting out "And what would you have me do? No demigod can be raised by their godly parent! I am not well-loved in Olympus, certainly not enough to openly raise the girl!"

An unnatural red light danced behind Berenice's eyes as she yelled "You'll take care of her! Be more than the reason she doesn't have a mother!"

The god stopped, forcing his temper down. "She will need training. Already, her powers grow strong as you grow weak. I will arrange a tête-à-tête with my half-sister. She will take the girl to Themyscira. They can train her body and mind. Three times a year, we will meet, and I will train her abilities. That is the best I can offer."

"Promise me that you'll make sure she is safe."

"I'll make sure she is the fiercest warrior of the century."

"Fuck you."

"You say the sweetest things."

**Washington DC, United States of America**

**May 1****st****, 11:52 EST**

Diana adjusted her faux glasses, using the motion to check her surroundings, wary of the seemingly normal chaos ever-present at the Washington Monument. After all, Ares was not an enemy who was above violating a truce.

As she moved to check her watch, a grizzled blond man sat next to her on the bench.

"You're late."

"Deepest apologies Princess," Ares sneered "Human defecation has proved itself even more time-consuming than should be possible."

Diana quirked an eyebrow and turned to face him but was completely unprepared for the sight of Ares, god of war and bloodlust, destroyer of men, wearing a bright pink baby sling.

"I didn't buy it."

"That, I believe. Should I be on the lookout for missing baby posters?"

The look of distaste remained on Ares' face as he rolled his eyes. "Her mother was an only child and orphaned as a young woman. I am, unfortunately, her only remaining relation."

"May her soul find its' way to Elysium. You have my condolences."

"Cease your pities, I have no need of them. As you very well know, gods are not permitted to raise their progeny."

Diana, at this point, was very confused and more than a little frustrated. "Make your point already Ares, we both know you are not one for being coy."

"I ask you to bring her with you to Themyscira. She needs training, and that cannot be given by mere mortals."

Whatever answer Diana was expecting, this was not it. But this was most likely the best option for the child. She nodded her ascent.

"That is not all."

Internally, Diana groaned. Knowing Ares, this would be a ridiculous request, one that would provide him with the opportunity to incite war somewhere.

"She will also require training in her godly powers. We will meet three times a year and I will teach her to hone her gifts."

This was the catch Diana was looking for. "Absolutely not! You will not use your daughter to gain access to Themyscira!"

Ares rolled his eyes, thoroughly fed up with the Amazon. "Then find some abandoned island and bring her there! She needs to be taught and I am the only who can."

"Alright, three times a year for two days, at a neutral location of our choosing. No more, no less."

"Yes, yes, yes, I agree to your terms."

"And I to yours."

With that, Ares lifted the newborn and her sling off his chest and handed both to Diana. Surprised by the suddenness, she took a moment to study the snoozing baby. The girl's hair was dark, the only trace of Ares' coloring was when the girl stirred and opened her eyes, revealing pitch black irises. Diana focused back on Ares, who, she was surprised to find, walking away.

"Wait! Does she have a name?"

Ares, hoping to make a quick getaway, glowered at the interruption. "Her mother suggested Laurel. Though, I am particular to Iphigenia." Satisfied that there were no more questions he had to answer; Ares disappeared into the crowd.

Diana looked back down at the small bundle in her arms, the baby weakly fussing at the brightness of the sun.

"Let us go home, little Laurel."


End file.
